heyheymarya

[heyheymarya]

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Hello. Miss America has done away with the swimsuit competition, evening gown competition, oh, and the word pageant. Kate Spade committed suicide. Sigh. It’s been a long, hard week. 

I realize many people from pageant land and outside spectators have spoken out with their thoughts on the Miss America Organization’s decision to no longer include the swimsuit or evening gown competitions in their now America’s Got Talent with interview portion contest. But what kind of former journalist/occasional blogger would I be if I didn’t throw my two cents in?

It’s easy to hear of news that somewhat affects you or your world and immediately become enraged and want to start a riot (just me and my friends? Oh, okay.). But despite the indignation I felt at the decision to eliminate two important pieces of the Miss America pie (see what I did there? :)), I held off. Mainly because I deleted social media off my phone and had less access to share my thoughts with the world. But also because I didn’t need another excuse to post old photos of myself in a swimsuit-- ahh, sweet memories. 

But then. A friend of mine who I love and admire and often look to for wisdom and insight said something that really stopped me in my tracks. She has a podcast that I listen to weekly because I’m proud of her and I miss her, and she briefly touched on the Miss America decision this week. She didn’t have a ton of time left to speak about it but nonchalantly said something to the effect of “Honestly, I’d be okay if Miss America went away all together because I don’t really see the good pageants contribute to society anyway.” *Insert wide-eyed face emoji here* I thought I’d shake it off, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if that’s how a lot of people feel. Which surprisingly to me left me feeling unsettled. Let me explain. 

For background, in 2009 I went off to a little place called God’s Country, aka the University of Georgia. Up until then, I had been a pretty “successful” individual for my 18 years. Nothing Nobel worthy, but essentially if there had been a grade or award to achieve, I did. With little to no effort. I’m baring my soul here, but I will tell you that I was one of those kids who, yes worked diligently most of the time and when the going got tough I cracked down and got it done, but GENERALLY good grades and achievements were things that came naturally to me. It was a little bit of natural giftings/Myers Briggs type stuff and a little bit of environmental factors. I had little to worry about because I grew up a white girl in suburbia with loving parents who believed in me and sacrificed for me to have anything I wanted (not like a Mercedes when I was 16, but like piano lessons for every week of my school-aged years and band practices and drama camps and voice lessons and a black escape to get myself to all these extracurriculars after I drove the mini van for a few months). When I was a freshman in the high school marching band, I thought it would be fun and good practice to try out for Drum Major so that when I was old enough to be Drum Major in a year or two, I would have more experience. I got Drum Major as a Freshman. I didn’t even know that was possible and apparently it wasn’t really a thing until then. Sophomore year, I randomly competed for a new pageant in town and because of previously-stated outgoing personality and piano lessons, I won. As a senior, I was beat out for Class President for the first time and was devastated I wouldn’t be able to give a speech at graduation. But the administrators asked me to anyways-- what. When I went to UGA, I got into my top choice sorority, earned a competitive spot as a Tour Guide on campus as a Freshman, and generally got by just fine without a ton of effort but a good bit of gratitude. I HAVE A POINT TO THIS OBNOXIOUS LAUNDRY LIST: when you spend the majority of your life breezing through, the first sign of turbulence is a doozy. I started not getting stuff just because I showed up (the horror!). My dad’s health hit a rough spot. I started experiencing some real boy drama. And because I hadn’t really had to deal with hard things, I turned to all the wrong places for solace. Boys, nightlife, social media, striving HARDER, putting unrealistic pressure on myself; for the first time my self-esteem was plummeting and I didn’t even realize it, let alone know how to healthily handle it. 

I hit a pretty hard low and it took some really true friends to be honest with me about the person they didn’t recognize anymore whom they were living with. Slowly, I started learning what it looked like to live like the person I actually wanted to be. One day, a favorite teacher from high school reached out inviting me to compete in my hometown’s Miss Cherokee Rose pageant. It was a preliminary to Miss Georgia and the winner of that went on to Miss America. I didn’t really have dreams of becoming Miss America, but I did have noble aspirations of having abs on spring break that year, so I said yes. And it was the first time in my entire life that I set a goal and worked towards it. And, truly, by the grace of God (and probably the whole Myers Briggs and voice lessons and working out thing) I won. And when the crown was placed on my head, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather (partly because my legs were giving out from squatting as the crown was being pinned on my head) when one of my future mentors looked at me and said “You’re going to Miss Georgia!” I knew that was the next step, but I didn’t really start out on this thing to go to Miss Georgia! I didn’t belong there! I was quirky (weird) and petite and brunette and wasn’t THAT great of a singer and said silly things to make people laugh but was certainly not polished or poised enough to compete in a state pageant. But for the next 6 months, I worked toward become stage-ready inside and out. Turns out, there were several girls from UGA that were competing as well so we started texting and hanging out before Miss Georgia week even arrived. Many of them had competed before so I learned the tricks of the trade like putting hemorrhoid ointment on the bags under my eyes and how to apply butt glue so your swimsuit doesn’t show more of your hiney than is appropriate even for a swimsuit competition. But the more time I spent with them leading up to the pageant and during the week, the more I realized the depth that each of these young women contained, the passion for their communities, the dedication to their craft, the love for people that showed up through actions like visiting Children’s hospitals and investing in girls younger than them. I was in awe. After months of eating grilled chicken and spinach and spending time at the gym instead of the bars and reading about foreign affairs and local policies rather than binge-watching TV (well, we still did that a lot), I competed at Miss Georgia and won a preliminary swimsuit award and non-finalist interview award. For the first time ever, I was awarded a trophy based on my hard work and dedication rather than being in the right place at the right time. And that felt good-- empowering even. 

I continued for two years in this crazy world we call pageant land, and my last year competing anyone who knew me knew I KNEW I would be crowned Miss Georgia that year. My fitness was at an all-time high. My platform was relevant. My gown was amazing. My interview was darn-near flawless-- I think I can say that... I had the HIGHEST interview score out of EVERY other contestant that year! It was in God’s hands! Annnnnd I lost. Like, really lost. Like had the highest interview score and still didn’t crack the top ten. If this had happened to the girl that showed up at UGA four years prior, a trainwreck would have ensured. Yes, I was upset and disappointed and confused. But never, ever, in that moment or any after did I doubt my ability or worth or value BECAUSE of the lessons I learned in the process of competing in the Miss America Organization. You don’t spend three years intentionally working to become the best you you can be without learning the true power and meaning that lives inside you. It wasn’t my plan, but I knew God was making it all work for my good and looking back on the past four years since, I was right. 

I will tell you I’ve never met more serving and loving men and women than the ones who spend their free time volunteering for the local Miss America and Miss Georgia boards serving as mentors and coaches to the 18-24 year olds like me who often just needed a grown up other than our parents to speak encouragement and truth into our lives. I met some of my greatest friends and the mother of my God-children through rubbing ourselves down with fake tan, eating dried fruit and Puffs on couches while problem-solving the world’s issues, and coaching each other on the perfect French turn or confident gown walk. To you, it seems like just a pageant. To me, it was the foundation of much of my adult life and the reason I am who I am today. 

Now I spend much of my days coaching, encouraging, and pointing young men and women to truth about themselves as the Director of People & Development over three Chick-fil-A stores in Athens, a leader of first-graders in our church’s elementary school environment, and a small-group leader for a circle of college girls. I would say the large majority of my weeks are spent with college-aged or right-out-of-college-aged individuals exploring the unique gifts God has given them and how they can use those talents to better themselves and the world around them. I teach first graders that we should make wise choices and that we can trust God no matter what. I remind college girls that they can do ANYTHING through the power of the Holy Spirit within them and that they are worth so much more than their grades, achievements, or failures. I would not be able to do any of this if it weren’t for my time competing in the Miss America Pageant because it is there that I learned that MY true value wasn’t in winning a pageant, but in the ways God has gifted me, in the way I love others, and ultimately in the way God loves us by teaching us hard lessons through something even as trivial as a swimsuit competition. My time competing for Miss Georgia is where I learned what it looks like to live intentionally, working towards something with my eyes never wavering from that prize. Back then, that prize was a shiny swimsuit plate or even a shiny crown. Now, I use those same muscles and skills I learned then to run toward the prize set before us which I believe is freedom in Christ. 

So, yeah. I would say pageants, and Miss America specifically, contributes good to our society. When you have an organization that encourages young women (and, for me, during the most formative years of my life) to become the best they can be mentally, emotionally AND physically, all working to better their communities while learning what is looks like to compete not against the friends beside them but against their former selves... that is game-changing. These are the women who have become and are becoming our future doctors, lawyers, teachers, mothers, politicians, and influencers who at the very beginning of their adult lives learn the value of hard work (physically, mentally and emotionally), the importance of not living life solely for yourself, and that their value cannot be found on a scale or even in someone else’s opinion of them. In today’s society of selfies, SnapChat stories, and finding value in Instagram likes, what is better for our society than that?

[heyheymarya]

I’m a Six.

Hi, I’m Mary Ashley. And I’m a Six. 

I imagine that kind of introduction warrants a couple different reactions: 

If you’re familiar with the Enneagram: “What?? YOU? A SIX? I don’t believe that.” 

If you’re unsure if the Enneagram is a Facebook quiz, a math problem or a rare form of olden-day communication: “A Six? Ah, c’mon, MA, you’re at least an 8 with those legs and that personality.”

Why, thank you. 

If you’re in the unfamiliar with Enneagram camp, let me explain. Wikipedia says the Enneagram is a description of the human psyche which is taught as a typology of nine interconnected personality types. That feels like a good explanation to me. Basically, it’s another way of understanding how you operate, how your personality manifests itself in your day-to-day life, and how you can understand others better through knowing their type. The Enneagram says that there are 9 different personality types and we each take on one basic type somewhere in childhood/adolescence as a way for us to best make sense of the world around us. Pretty heady stuff, right? No personality type is any better than the other and when you dig deeper (which I highly recommend) you’ll see that each personality type clues us in to a different aspect and characteristic of the God who made us. THAT’S WHAT MAKES IT REALLY COOL. That, and the fact that I feel like I’m finally understood. 

I say all this because I’ve become enthralled with the Enneagram (ask my close friends & co-workers) and because lately I’ve really been feelin’ my Six-ness. In short, the Six is called the Loyalist. Or the Devil’s Advocate. But those are just nice ways of saying Sixes are worriers. It’s what we do. We’ve thought through every worst-case-scenario in every situation we MIGHT come into contact with. We know where the closest fire escapes are, sit ourselves in the seat where we have the best view of the restaurant, and know which way we’ll run when the terrorist comes. We have a note on our phone that tells our husband, family & friends how much we loved them in case they go through our phone after we die. Wait, you don’t do that? *shrugs*

You might be laughing. Or you might have a feeling in the pit of your stomach because you do that too. Maybe you’re a Six. Maybe you watch too many 24-hour news cycles. At any rate, these are the thoughts that plague my mind. Some good news for me is that I’m a Six with a Seven wing. According to the Enneagram Institute: no one is a pure personality type... everyone is a unique mixture of your basic type & one of the two types adjacent to it on the Enneagram circle. That type is called your wing. Your basic type dominates your overall personality, while the wing complements it and adds important, sometimes contradictory, elements to your total personality. Hehehe. My wing is a Seven which is The Enthusiast. So I’m enthusiastic about worrying! Just kidding. It means that I’m a LITTLE less worried than other Sixes and often disguise or divert my worry with humor. Can’t imagine. Lastly, your basic personality shifts based on times when you feel stressed out or times when you feel secure. In those times, you take on characteristics of other numbers directly across from you. In times of stress, I take on traits of an unhealthy Three (The Achiever). I try my hardest to achieve, I can become arrogant & I start to believe that my worth is found only in the last thing I’ve accomplished. In times of security, I move toward the traits of a healthy Nine (The Peacemaker). I become more relaxed, optimistic and encourage those around me to get along. Ahhh. Here’s a picture of the Enneagram circle to maybe make more sense of what I just said: 

Lately, I’ve been feeling pretty true to that Six lifestyle. Sometimes it hits me out of nowhere. What am I doing? Where am I going? How can I make this happen? Is this what I’m supposed to be doing? How can I fix this or them or that? What if it doesn’t work out? What if we’re wasting our time? What if this happened or this or that? I can’t do this alone, but it’s all on me! It’s mine to fix. It’s mine to take care of. It’s exhausting. 

So this morning after a few weeks of lousy sleep and worrying over things so far in the future (or maybe not so far, but who knows?) and having my mind so preoccupied by worry that I can’t even focus on fully enjoying the gift of RIGHT NOW, I stopped. I took a breath. I took a break. I read my bible. I wrote down some scripture. I prayed. And I remembered, that none of those questions that have been swirling around in my head are even relevant. I was led back to words that are so familiar but endlessly applicable. 

“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” - Matthew 6:25-27

Um. No. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m taking years away from my life just by worrying. 

I remembered that I trust God. Because sometimes I forget. I forget that He is good. I forget that He is sovereign. I forget that He’s the same God who parted the sea so the ones He loved could get safely to the other side. Don’t I think He would do the same for me?? Paul believed so when he tells us in Ephesians that “through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.” 

That promise is life, life to the fullest & life not bound by the constraints of this world. This morning I was reminded in Matthew 6 (The Message) to “Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative & God-provisions.” Steep my life. Not put the cherry of truth on top. STEEP it. Soak my life in God-reality, God-initiative & God-provisions. Saturate it to the point that the flavor is extracted-- that’s literally what steeping means. There’s a reason we’re called as believers to spend time in the word, pray, read our Bibles, go to church, etc. Not because they’re rules to follow but because my feeble, worried mind forgets things I can’t afford to forget: 

God-reality (I am chosen. I am loved. I am an heir with Christ)

God-initiative (He has gifted me with specific gifts & talents meant to bring me joy & further His kingdom)

God-provisions (literally NOTHING good that I have has come from my own doing or personal merit... check out my last post on that). 

When I am fully saturated with those truths, how am I supposed to worry?? 

The nice thing about all Enneagram personality types is that there are varying degrees to our crazy and that there’s an emotionally healthy version of each of us. YAY. The even nicer thing? Our personalities whether defined by Enneagram, Myers-Briggs or that Buzzfeed quiz that tells you what kind of cheese you are, are not the end-all-be-all of who we are to our core. It’s not what defines us. It doesn’t have to be the end of our story. God defines us. What Jesus did on the cross defines us. I am chosen. Not forsaken. I am who You say I am.  Fellow Sixes (& literally everyone else), rejoice! 

[heyheymarya]

What are you doing on New Year’s Eve?

I thought this song was a Kacey Musgraves original that debuted on her Very Kacey Christmas album last year... turns out it’s been around since the 40s. Whoops.

Anywho, Happy New Year! This is the first New Year’s Eve that I’m spending on my couch in my pjs in a really long time but, honestly, this is exactly what I wanted/needed to do. #metime 

There was once a time when sitting on my couch in my pjs while I watch everyone I know party and have fun and celebrate with friends/family would strike some real FOMO deep into my soul. I would feel sick with the grief of missing out. Not tonight. I’m warm and full of sushi and a chocolate chip cookie mishap and I have a snoozing piglet snuggled up beside me. I think I’m winning here. 

The last few days of the year are usually ones spent reflecting on the previous year & dreaming of the next. Maybe some resolving; maybe some planning; definitely hashtagging lots of catchy phrases like #newyearnewme and #bestnineof2017. I resolved in 2017 to read more-- a new book each month, in fact, and I did! Might I recommend the following books that I read in 2017:

Love Your Life Not Theirs by Rachel Cruze Talking As Fast As I Can by Lauren Graham Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis (now in my top three books ever) Calm My Anxious Heart by Linda Dillow Bossypants by Tina Fey Leaders Made Here by Rex Miller The Magnolia Story by Chip & Joanna Gaines You Are Free by Rebekah Lyons The Road Back to You: An Enneagram Journey to Self-Discovery by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile How To Lead When You’re Not in Charge by Clay Scroggins The Cure by Bill Thrall, Bruce McNicol, and John Lynch 

Which leads me to my next thought as I reflect on 2017 and hope for 2018 and all that is in store. The Cure is an amazing read that reveals truth that all of us need to hear. Without giving too much away, The Cure helps the reader understand that we are more loved & known by our Heavenly Father than we could ever imagine, and it is in that love that we are called to live out all of our days... I don’t think that gives anything away?? Lolz. The book talks a lot about the difference in pleasing God and trusting Him... it doesn’t sound like those are opposing sentiments, but you can read more about that for yourself. I’ve been thinking a lot about this, though, because something unexpected happened when I read a passage that speaks more about trusting God and what would happen if we stopped hustling and striving SO MUCH trying to figure out everything on our own and leaving our lives to our own devices and just TRUST that God has got our back. But when reading that, I felt my stomach drop. In that moment, my gut reaction was the feeling of disappointment. It was a feeling of settling. A feeling of settling for what God had planned rather than achieving what I hope for as if whatever God has planned might be second-best. And that. is. nuts. When I look at my life and I’m being really honest, nothing I have, nothing about where I am is because of my own merit. If I feel like trusting God is settling, then I must feel like I could do better. That I could do better in planning my life than the God of the universe who made me, who knows everything about me, who knows every hair on my head, every string in my heart, who placed every desire, every urge, every inkling strategically in my being... yet I have the audacity to think that I have a better plan for my life than He does. I have the audacity to believe that trusting in that God’s plan for my life is settling. I somehow could create a better story and could write a better ending than He could. That’s just not the case. That’s not true at all. I look at the gifts I’ve been given: my life, um... breath, my husband, my family, the friends, a house, a job, a pig... and I see how different it all is than what I could have ever pictured ten years ago, or even a year ago (see blog post about #NoSpend2017). It is immeasurably more than anything I could have asked or imagined. And it always is. Every time I reflect back on seasons in my life, they are way better than what I would have planned for myself-- even the ones that weren’t so easy-going in the moment. I look around and see His faithfulness over and over again. All around me, friends are celebrating a new year with new opportunities, new engagements, new babies, new travels, Dawgs at the Rose Bowl... the list goes on and continuously showcases God’s faithfulness and goodness. I look around at these things and trust beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have found favor in the eyes of my Heavenly Father. We have found favor-- see what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! 

So what are you hoping for, searching for, planning on for 2018? Whatever it is, in the end you’ll look back and see that God can be trusted. He is able & He is good. Trust that.  

[heyheymarya]

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I turned down Mariah Carey & chewed through my holiday sparkle not-supposed-to-chip SNS manicure out of anxiety, frustration and poor habit. 

What is it about the holidays that drives us so crazy?? Mad with the idea that the pie has to be perfect, the tree tall & full & immaculately decorated, and the presents large, expensive & Instagram-worthy. 

In an effort to keep up with the holiday baking perfection achieved by my mother, I decided I would make pies. The same pies that she made every year I can remember dozens at a time for our teachers, Dad’s friends and her co-workers. Don’t worry-- I knew I’d have to warm up to such holiday greatness, so I decided I would start with three. One for each of my bosses and one for our small group. EASY PEASY, RIGHT? Only, nothing is ever easy peasy when it comes to me in the kitchen attempting anything relatively normal for people to be able to accomplish. I get my newlywed mixer, fill it with enough butter & sugar to make Paula Deen raise an eyebrow, and begin mixing away to a chorus of Jingle Bell Rock playing in my head. I go to prick the pie shells with a fork before filling them with my chocolatey goodness like I’ve seen my mother do a MILLION times before. Only, the pie shell crumbles. Because it’s already cooked. I got this far only to discover I had the wrong pie crusts. And we live in Winterville. AKA 20 minutes from any grocery store housing the unbaked pie crusts I need. Baker is confused by the steam coming from my ears as I slam out the door to retrieve the right crusts. 30 minutes later, I’m back. Pies are filled (sans the other ingredients I forgot to add in the heat of the moment). The previous ready-made pie crusts are in the trash as punishment for being the wrong kind. The pies finally bake. I sigh with relief and think “THEY HAD BETTER LIKE THEM.”

What is it about the holidays that makes us feel like suddenly our old selves melt away, and we are to become this picture of perfection on display like Clark Griswold’s tacky yet delightful house? I think some of it stems from the lie we often believe from our beloved Christmas movies and our scrolling through Instagram that EVERYONE else has it together & everyone else is enjoying the holliest, jolliest Christmas where no fighting is happening, nothing is burnt and the correct-sized presents abound. 

But I think a lot of it stems from the longing we all feel for something a little more. Because we are actually made for more. More than what this world can give us. More than can be fulfilled through presents, lights, dream jobs, the most Christ-centered marriages, newborn babies, Likes, Shares & Comments or anything else we think will fill the hole in our heart that feels especially vacant this time of year. 

Do you remember the longing you felt for Christmas morning as a kid? Kids wake up hours too early on Christmas morning in hopeful, giddy anticipation of what they will find beneath the Christmas tree... or in our house in our designated piles in the living room once Mom put on her make up & Dad had the video camera set up. It’s funny-- I knew Mom and Dad were responsible for my gifts but that didn’t make me love the boomboxes, American Girl dolls or the tiny TV with a VHS player less. The excitement and expectancy of Christmas morning still reigned in my heart year and year again. And I think it’s because there’s a piece of us, even as adults, that will always have that longing. I’m not sure I ever TRULY believed in Santa (I had two older siblings who were older & wiser, after all ;)), but I do remember the moments that I wish I did. I remember watching our Christmas movies & Disney Channel specials for the millionth time imagining what would it be like if that kind of magic and wonder really existed in my world. I didn’t understand it then and can barely grasp it now-- but that sense of wonder & enchantment does exist in our world. It exists when we believe that a baby was born to save the world & to reunite us with our Creator who loves us more than we can imagine. What is more enchanted and what seems more “magical” than a God who looks at us and sees nothing but love, wholeness and righteousness because of what His son, that baby, did for us on a cross?? Like what??

The longing that we feel was fulfilled when Christ was born, and that hope will be fully satisfied when He returns as He promises He will. 

The enchantment, the wonder, the joy & peace that transcends all understanding is what exists for us as believers in the meantime. It’s this in-between of that first Christmas and the day when Christ will come again when we believers lean in. When we feel that longing in our hearts today or tomorrow for peace & joy to overtake us when the chaos of small children screaming reaches its peak; when feelings are hurt; when expectations aren’t met; or when you feel the loneliness of a loved one who’s missing from the dinner table: lean in. Lean in to the longing, lean in to the hope and look up knowing that that desire keeps our eyes fixed on Jesus. The ultimate pioneer & perfecter of our faith. The ultimate fulfillment of all our longing. When we feel that something is missing this Christmas, let’s remind ourselves that we’re right. There is something missing. But we won’t be without it for long. 

Until then, He has gifted us with precious things. Imperfect families. Well-meaning husbands. Sweet kiddos who will answer you 100% honestly when you ask them how you look (you’ve been warned). And moments like these when we are reminded that as great as this Christmas might be, we ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

[heyheymarya]

It’s a weird feeling when you jump. Do you know what I mean?

On our honeymoon last October, we stayed at an all-inclusive resort about an hour south of Cancun, Mexico. It. Was. Awesome. We love the people and the culture of our neighbors to the south. We were traveling in the fall which is supposed to be prime-time Mexico weather. And it gave Baker a great opportunity to practice his Espanol. (It turns out when you travel to Mexico with a Spanish-speaking man, suddenly the locals take you a little more seriously even when you’re wearing American flag shorts. 

We planned to go on one of those all-day excursions since the weather decided to be unpredictable. We hopped on a bus with other tourists from all the surrounding resorts to travel straight into the land of the Mayans to explore the ruins of lost cities, including Chichen Itza. We ate our weight in tacos at an authentic Mayan restaurant and rounded out our day visiting a local cenote (seh-no-tay) where we were invited to take the plunge into, basically, a glorified sinkhole resulting from the collapse of limestone bedrock. But they look like this so we call them tourist attractions: 

I’m not deathly afraid of heights, but the higher I climb (especially with the end-game being jumping) the more scared I become. Normal, right?? Alas, I wanted to be the cool wife so I said yes to climbing to the top of the stairs so we could jump off the platform into said sinkhole where the water would be cold and the peer-pressure was hot. I figured I would just jump right in. It would be over soon, and we could load the bus and get back to our resort where my food & drink seemed to magically refill itself. But I got to the top of the stairs and froze. And looked down. And my stomach dropped. And suddenly I was 4 years old again with a bowl haircut holding my mom’s hand as we crossed a swinging bridge that would catapult us to our death. 

Baker, on the other hand, literally ran and somersaulted into the air to land with a big splash. Over and over again. I guess this is where we differ in life. 

Long story, short (ish), I eventually counted how many seconds it took the average person to land in the water from the time their feet left the platform, prayed about it, recited that I could do all things (even jump off perfectly good platforms) through Christ who strengthened me, watched men & women, young & old dive into the water wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn’t bravely do the same... Until someone’s grandma jumped off and said, “Come on, if I can do it, you can do it!” So I did. And kind of wondered what took me so long. Later... once I was safe and sound, guac and chips in hand at our dinner table. 

It’s funny, though, how relevant this theme of jumping has become in my life, especially being married to Baker. Honestly, that’s just kind of who is he-- a jumper. I’m not NOT a jumper. I’m far too much of an ESFP to be over-analytical or opposed to risk. But I can be a worrier, even when I know I know better. In these past couple of years, though, I’ve started to catch Baker by his coattails as he jumps fearlessly into the unknown as I shout, “Hey, wait for me!”

It’s looked a little something like this: why wait to get married even though we were originally on a five-year plan? Why does it have to be 2017 before we get engaged? Why wait to start a chicken business or restart that blog or bring home the pet pig you always said you’d get but never really knew you would? The longer I’m with Baker, the more I realize he might be onto something. Why wait around looking for an excuse as to why you’ll be busy when God has offered you an invitation into something way better? 

That’s how I feel with Noonday. I didn’t know why I felt a pull toward it. I didn’t want to sell something. Maybe I’ll wait and see what my friends think or create a more extensive initial marketing plan or do some more research (for the record, I’ve done a TON of research). So a few weeks ago, I just decided to jump. Why wait to advocate for a cause and a product that you feel drawn toward and the more you learn about the more you really believe in? Why wait to feel overwhelmed by the weight of the world when you have the option right in front of you to take small steps toward bettering a stranger’s life? Why wait until you have it all together or have all the answers to start living fully in the life you’ve been called to or step onto the path laid before you? But really, ask yourself... why would you wait another second to live fully in the freedom of stepping out in faith, hopeful & expectant of what the Lord will provide and do?  So with that said, the wait is over & my official Noonday Collection launch party is next Saturday, September 30 2:30 pm - 5:00 pm at Casa de Baker. I’d love for you to stop by. We’ll have the game on in the living room and snacks, beverages, stories & jewelry to share. 

What is it that you’re waiting for a good reason to run away from? I ran out of good reasons to wait. I hope you do, too. 

[heyheymarya]

“Let’s Buy A House!”  #NoSpend2017

As referenced in my previous post (Everyone is selling something), Baker and I declared this calendar year as #nospend2017-- a year in which we would cleanse ourselves and our bank accounts of all unnecessary or frivolous purchases. We didn’t set out to make 2017 the year of no spending-- it just kind of quickly became a theme. We got married in October 2016 and realized we had SO MUCH STUFF and not a ton of savings. We were sweet newlyweds dreaming of all the places we’d travel to while on the flight home from our Mexico honeymoon, newly-deemed Godparents dreaming of the ways we would start our own family one day down the road and renters who dreamed of putting that monthly payment toward something we could eventually own. Needless to say, when looking at our dreams and our bank account-- the two just didn’t add up. 

After prayer and wise counsel (and lots of conversations), we decided that we’d start pursuing our dreams one goal at a time and honestly the opportunity to buy our house came up quicker than we expected. We knew we wanted land for Baker Pastured Poultry, and we loved the little town of Winterville just over the Athens line. 

Baker doesn’t LOVE calling our house a fixer upper because the house didn’t NEED any of these changes (okay, okay, yes, fine). But for all intents and purposes (and because Joanna Gaines gives me life)-- our house is a fixer upper. I’m super allergic to dogs and cats (hence our little piggy, Penelope) and the former tenant had a couple of dogs which meant all of the flooring needed to come out. We knew a fresh coat of paint changes everything. And we really wanted to open up the living space and kitchen area so a pass-through or just completely taking out that wall was an option. (So glad we went with the pass-through.) What we didn’t know was that taking that wall out of the picture meant COMPLETELY remodeling our kitchen. Whoopsies. With that in mind, here’s what we’ve done so far on Casa de Baker! Still in progress, but I can tell you marrying a handy man has indeed come in... handy.

Living Room Before:

Living Room After:

We replaced the floors (by we, I mean Baker), added a pass-through between the living room & kitchen (by we, I mean my dad), painted (that was me!), and put a papasan where a wood-burning stove should go... Honestly it still has the packaging on it in this picture because I planned on returning it after we watched the Georgia vs. Notre Dame game in it. But then we really liked it. So. The packaging came off. 

Kitchen Before:

Kitchen After: 

Um... everything is different. 

Master Before: 

Master After:

I didn’t realize I picked out floors that matched our bedroom furniture until after we placed the order... At least I’m consistent, right? Also, this vanity is what my little girl dreams were made of and it was a SUPER simple and affordable DIY. More to come on that. 

Dining Room Before:

Dining Room After:

That’s all for now! Still have an office, two bedrooms and two bathrooms to tackle completely but it’s been seriously fun to see the progress. Easy for me to say, right, Baker? :) Stay tuned for more!

[heyheymarya]

Everyone is selling something...

And now I’m part of “everyone”. WHAT?? But I would never. But the Facebooks are blowing up (not literally, people). The skincare regiments are constant. The leggings and oversized clothing never end. WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN? PS: no judgment here, I’m just sayin’. You do you, girlfriend. And yet, I am now part of the newest trend where I will post items on my social media and this blog in which I ask people to purchase. I never thought this day would come, but here we are. And for, I think, good reason. 

Let me start from the (kind of) top. When 2017 began, my husband and I being sweet, blissful newlyweds declared it the year of #nospend2017. NO SPENDING HERE, NU UH, NOPE. Byeee T.J. Maxx. Adios Target. See ya never, Hobby Lobby. We had just done SO MUCH SPENDING in 2016. Wedding prep, wedding, honeymoon, moving in together. SO. MUCH. SPENDING. And we had SO. MUCH. STUFF. We lived in a 750 square foot duplex in the best location in Athens & I promise you we had kitchen gadgets and picture frames with sweet nothings inscribed on them hidden in places one should never store mementos or kitchen supplies. I read Rachel Cruze’s Love Your Life Not Theirs (a GREAT read, BTW), and honestly my mind was opened for the first time to how much our consumer-obsessed world had infiltrated my mind and spirit. I followed all the fashion bloggers, all the make up artists, all the work-out gurus and every time they posted and tagged sources I NEEDED IT. NEEDED. Desperately. Had to have. And after reading Rachel’s book, I realized I was letting thigh-gapped girls with beautiful luscious hair and designer dogs WHO I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW determine not just where I spent my money but essentially what I was worth. *insert shocked face emoji* Let me tell you. I have spent a large majority of my adult life and invested a large chunk of change in Christian counseling (also HIGHLY recommend) just to come all this way and let some stranger (though I’m sure she’s darling) tell me what I’m worth?? Nope. Hence, the declaration to not spend, to budget wisely, to think about WHY I feel the need to buy that sweater or those shoes as soon as I see my pretend friends wearing them. Honestly, it’s still a battle I’m fighting and a principle I’m still learning. My stuff doesn’t define who I am or what I’m worth. 

{Now for the irony. In the middle of #nospend2017, the Bakers decided to put some roots down and buy a house. And not just a house, but a fixer upper. LOLOLOL. So to say we haven’t spent money (a lot of it) in 2017 is a flat-out lie and really, very humorous to think about. But more on that later.}

I say all this to say that while on the journey of asking myself why do I feel the need to consume and spend and buy all the things, I’ve started to take another step into living my life with some real intention. I not only began assessing the why behind my consumption and love for shopping, but also started wondering, ‘What does it look like to only buy things that I feel really good about, things that I know where and how it was made, and things that ultimately serve a much larger purpose than just staying up-to-date on the latest trends or feeding my shopping addiction?’

Enter Noonday Collection. I was invited to a gathering by a new friend at Athens Church. She invited some women over for good ol’ community time, to hear about the adoption she and her husband are pursuing, to learn more about the growing foster care ministry at Athens Church, and to check out her latest adoption fundraiser-- Noonday Collection. As Baker and I both feel a call on our lives to care for orphans in a way we’re not sure yet how it’ll unfold, I was excited to go to her house and left giddy with all the things I had heard and learned. I felt a pull to learn more about Noonday because, to be honest, the jewelry was real cute. And on-trend. And, as you’ve heard, I’m a recovering shopping addict. So I dug in deeper and this is what I learned: 

Noonday Collection is a company that partners with Artisan Businesses in 11 different countries around the world (think Haiti, Ethiopia, India, Afghanistan, Guatemala, Kenya, Uganda...) to develop these businesses through fair trade, empowering them to grow sustainably and to create dignified jobs for those who need them. 

This isn't just everyday jewelry & accessories. This is jewelry that’s on-trend and hand-made by real men & women around the world. These men & women are artisans who create gorgeous jewelry and accessories, but, unlike the businesses in the US who have access to boutiques, Etsy, and other online platforms to sell their products, these businesses have no way to really get their product out there to the public. That's where Noonday comes in. 

Noonday partners with these artisans to help them design jewelry and accessories that are on-trend and would sell well in US markets and then uses ambassadors in the US to help sell their products through trunk shows (yes, think Mary Kay, Pampered Chef & Avon). Through this partnership, opportunities are created for men & women in these developing countries who are vulnerable, empowering them to earn sustainable income and provide for their families. This partnership creates dignified jobs that empower families to care for their children, so less children are orphaned or abandoned because of poverty. DID YOU KNOW JEWELRY COULD HAVE SUCH AN IMPACT? I definitely didn’t, but I’m grateful it can... again, recovering shopping addict over here. 

So that’s where we are. I’ve become a Noonday Ambassador because it gives me a way to do something that’s just plain fun while empowering women in other countries to achieve their dreams and provide for their children (bye, I’m crying). I would love to tell you more about it in person or online. I may or may not ask you to partner with me in creating a marketplace to promote these artisans’ products (aka host a trunk show), to buy a fun necklace or earrings as a way of fostering good in our world, or to keep Noonday and our Artisan partners in mind when you are looking for birthday gifts, searching for something to go with your dress for that party or (if you’re a recovering addict like me) needing to scratch that retail therapy itch. We’ll be here! 

[heyheymarya]

Guess who’s back, back again.

Hi! It’s me again. I’m sorry for this on-again-off-again relationship, blogging world. Nevertheless, she persisted... I think I used that out of context but I like that saying just the same. 

EVERYONE has a blog. Everyone is an Instagram/fashion blogger/dietician guru blogger now. Everyone is selling something these days. Sometimes (actually a lot of times) I refrain from doing things JUST BECAUSE everyone else is doing it. Call it the hipster in me (lolz). Call it the rebelliousness in me (maybe more accurate). Call it the individualization strength in me (it is #1, after all). No matter what you call it, it’s often there staring me in the face even when sometimes the things I want to do are, in fact, what everyone else is happening to be doing. Is that how trends work? Aren’t things popular for a reason?? Anywho. 

I’m a storyteller by trait who keeps coming back to what I know over and over again, long after the apathy and the empathy merge to make me a big puddle of a person resembling a sloth-- unable to get off my couch to get in bed at night. Sometimes I stop writing because I’ve run out of things to say. Sometimes I stop writing because I realize only my mom is reading these posts anyways (hey Mom!). And sometimes I stop writing because I’d rather lose myself in an episode or five of The Office or Friends and forget about real life for a while. 

So here I am again with something new to say without really knowing what that something might be. I have a feeling it has something to do with marriage, home renovations, shopping with a purpose, pet pigs, and Jesus. All I know for sure is that my heart has been speaking so loudly and so often that I barely have time to catch up to listen. So I sit down and let my fingers do the talking. If you’re curious to listen, you’re cordially invited to follow along: maryashleybaker.com. 

[heyheymarya]

You call me out upon the waters.

A year ago I stood on stage in a Sherri Hill cocktail dress that was falling off of my whittled down figure and listened for my name to be called. 10 names were called—none of which were my own. So I hung up my heels and crown and left pageantland determined that my name was not called for a reason. I was convinced God allowed pageantland into my life as part of the journey to become the person He made me to be—not the destination. While I had worked hard and waited hopefully, expectantly, patiently to be rewarded with a shiny crown, I took comfort in redirecting that hopeful, expectant, patient waiting toward an unknown something that would be immeasurably more than what I had originally asked or imagined. I was right.

People say mission trips to third world countries will forever change you. That seeing new cultures and meeting new people in new lands will forever shape the way you perceive the world. There’s no unseeing all that a newly opened pair of eyes has revealed.  I would have to agree with those people. I’ve tried to put into words all that I’ve felt in just the past couple of days and all I can conclude is that this isn’t a post-summer camp Jesus high. This is a renewal of my mind so that I may be made wise to see all that God is doing in our world. A transformation has begun that will forever shape how I see God and His kingdom because I have seen the start of revival in a community that comes when God intentionally works in the lives of those who are willing to say “yes” to Him.

I wasn’t sure how I would respond to being in a third world country, especially one still so devastated by natural disaster. Would I be sad? Would I feel pity? Would I shut down or just shut out the sights, smells, and sounds of getting off an airplane in Port au Prince for the first time? I was nervous I would feel all of the above. I feared I would be overcome by devastation and overwhelmed by the feeling that I am just one person and I cannot fix ANY of this. But I wasn’t. God had better plans for my heart. Instead of meeting people in the community of Oban still scorned by the storms or bitter about their lot in life, I met people full of love and gratitude for our Heavenly Father, the giver of all good things. I was informed that the earthquake that destroyed so much of Haiti five years ago just so happened to have struck one of the largest voodoo hubs in the country leading many to believe God had His hand in making all things work together for good by literally taking out evil. I met families who supported one another, neighbors who put the needs of others before their own and gifted leaders who would do anything to use their God-given talents to better their community.

Throughout the week our team lived within the village of Oban and spent our days traveling throughout the community visiting homes, churches, and schools. We were able to hear stories of life change, stories of what happens next after your husband and church are washed away in the tropical storm, even stories of how valuable an education is so a family can continue to be supported. No matter the turmoil in the story, they all had something in common. Each story pointed back to a loving God and His redeeming grace. Each storyline had something so intricately weaved throughout the words of hardship and heartache: an unwavering trust that our Lord is always good.  

I was nervous I would leave the country drained, burdened by all I had seen and heard. But I’m revived. I feel new. I’m encouraged by the Haitians I met because they are proof that no matter where you go in this world: people are good. There will always be leaders willing to lead. There will always be people whose love for Christ and for their community overwhelms their souls to move sacrificially toward change. That’s encouraging and that’s empowering. Because it’s those people that light a spark in a community for God and those communities will further that spark by igniting a fire of truth that will let God’s kingdom be known through the nations.  

I struggle a lot with trusting God. That’s not really something I’m proud of, but it’s something I’ve realized more and more in my most recent season of life. I truly struggle to comprehend that God has my best interests at heart even though nothing in my life has led me to believe otherwise. I guess I’ve always secretly thought that only thinking good thoughts, only concentrating on the positive outcomes, not once trying to calculate all the bad that could come from life’s twists and turns seemed like a type of sugar coating life. It has almost seemed like drowning out all doubt or not letting my mind get to the point of panic or worry seemed naïve or unrealistic or even unprepared.  But it’s not any of those things. In fact, believing in only the good, fighting the doubt, disciplining your mind to expectantly hope for the best-case scenario isn’t naïve, it’s biblical. Phillippians 4:8 tells us “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy- think about such things.” It’s what we’re called to do! Remind ourselves over and over again that God IS good all the time. God is just and true and good and FOR us. That’s biblical. That’s what the Haitian people have taught me the most. I can live in a hut, my husband and church washed away by a river, my income could depend on the weather, I could work four jobs for free and God is STILL good.

Our new Haitian friend Willnot said this more than once and every time it sank deeper into my heart. “There is not one mountain that cannot be moved by prayer.” One of the most powerful things we can do in this life is to pray because God is good and He is able. He rejoices to hear us come to Him and trust Him with our heart’s desires. The Haitians I met understand that and rejoice in that truth. How easily we forget in the midst of our #firstworldproblems that the creator of the universe calls us to fear not and to lay every burden at His feet. How quickly we abandon the notion that our maker did not just create us but also redeemed us and pursues us relentlessly. Why have we misinterpreted His sovereignty as abandonment? How could we ever forget that our Heavenly Father longs for a prayerful, meaningful relationship with each of us? The Haitians I met haven’t forgotten. They don’t have time for doubt or to maintain fear that God is anything but what He says He is: our faithful and loving father. In my week with the people of Oban, I’ve witnessed some of the most expectant, intentional prayers. Prayers of hope and gratitude. Prayers for health and rain. Prayers for safe travels for new friends. Prayers for God to bless us with spouses and children (not for another 5-10 years, please and thank you. Amen.) Prayers that are honest and whole-hearted. Prayers that are spoken out loud as if someone powerful is without a doubt on the receiving end.   

So my prayer today and one I have a feeling will carry me through all the days of my life is one for the people of Haiti. I pray for the men to be strong and healthy. I pray for the women to know they are worthy of love. I pray for the children, that they would have the opportunity to be educated and that they would come to know, love and trust our Heavenly Father. I pray for the rain, that it would fall and help the community provide for their families. I pray for jobs for the wildly gifted and talented new friends who have yet to find ways to contribute financially. I pray for their safety and health and comfort. I pray God will reign in the community and all would know of His goodness. I give thanks to God for using my new Haitian friends to redirect my wandering gaze back to the one true provider of joy. My Heavenly Father allowing me to meet these brothers and sisters in Christ in this lifetime and opening my eyes to see a little more clearly the life to which He has called me is truly immeasurably more than all I’ve been hopefully, expectantly, (not so patiently at times) waiting for. I pray that I might do as the Haitians do by whole-heartedly trusting that God is good all the time. Because I’ve tasted and seen that He really is. 

[heyheymarya]

This Christmas.

The Christmas Story: we’ve heard it a thousand times. Not to be confused with the story about a little boy who eerily resembles my brother growing up and is triple dog dared to stick his tongue to a freezing pole (even though that’s a good one too). I mean THE Christmas Story. About golden-fleece diapered, 8 lb 6 oz baby Jesus born in a manger to a young girl named Mary and a man named Joseph wearing a bathrobe that eerily resembles the one your local pastor got for Christmas last year.  In fact, we’ve heard it so many times that sometimes for me it doesn’t really seem real anymore. It seems just as familiar and cozy as the story about Santa Clause, Frosty the Snowman, heck even an Elf that eerily resembles Will Ferrell and thinks we should treat every day like Christmas.

And because The Christmas Story has become in my mind “just” a story, I forget that it happened. That it’s real. That when I rack my brain for the most perfect gift for someone, whistle a Christmas carol as I drive through traffic, cut someone off in traffic then feel bad about being a Grinch, and rip through wrapping paper on Christmas morning it is all supposed to be in celebration of the world’s greatest story. A story that each of us are invited to be a part of even though we live in a different time and place than when it all began.

“Today in the town of David, a savior has been born to you.” –Luke 2:11 Such familiar words that I so easily forget their weight. God dropped down onto the earth and gave up the beauty of heaven to be human just to hang out with us. Just so He COULD hang out with us forever. That thought BLOWS my mind and brings me to tears because while I think I’m a pretty fun time, I know I’m not by any means great enough for the King of all kings to want to spend time with during the span of an awkward holiday office party…. Not to mention spend intimate time with for all eternity starting now. I’m not GOOD enough or funny enough or wise enough or ANYTHING enough for the Savior of all nations to save let alone want a relationship with. But He did. And He does. And it began with this story. The story of a savior born to a virgin and first seen by shepherds who weren’t even allowed into the churches because of their standing in society who just so happened to know exactly where He was born. Oh and there were also Magi who gave up everything they might have believed before to worship a baby. Lolz. To any normal person, nothing about this story seems like it could possibly be real. But when you look at it closely enough, you realize it couldn’t have actually happened if it had not been for a God that was busy creating the world’s greatest story. A story so unbelievable, the only way it could seem real is if God Himself had written it. An event so baffling, even the truest sense of unbeliever in that time had to acknowledge something supernatural was at hand here. A God that was just as much at work the day Jesus was born, as He is in our lives right this very second. And that’s something else I forget.

God is not as far as we think He is and that’s what The Christmas Story calls us to remember. In our world of chaos and loss and heartache, it’s really easy for me at times to feel that God is so far away from my situation, so distant from my heart, light-years away from my needs. But if we look back to the days within the time Jesus was born we see greedy dictators, brothers killing brothers, wars over religion, adultery, betrayal… In other words a lot of chaos, loss, and heartache. Yet into THAT world, in THOSE days, a child was born to save all of the world. Which allows me to believe if God can birth hope into that world of brokenness, He can and will send His son to pick up the pieces of my heart and yours too no matter the situation we may find ourselves in and THAT is surely a reason to celebrate.

Do you remember the feeling of Christmas morning when you were little? Even still sometimes I’m so restless when I get in bed on Christmas Eve. As a kid it was without a doubt the delight of Santa stopping by and leaving oodles of gifts that would fill my heart for the next year. Now it’s the anticipation of unwrapping those grown up clothes you never thought you would need but couldn’t afford to buy yourself, the blender that you one day hope to share with someone else, and being all together with your whole family for one day because with jobs and distance and the curveballs life throws days like those just don’t seem to happen much anymore. But take yourself back to that giddy, smiling unexplainable thrill that accompanies Christmas morning and imagine what life could be like if we woke up every morning with the same hopeful, joyful anticipation for what the day will hold. I think that’s our call as believers to face each new day, even the dreary ones where you’re just doing what you did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that, with an excited, expectant heart ready to embrace even the simplest joys He may throw our way. Because on a day not too long ago in a world not too unlike ours He sent His only son to be that hope in our lives. Not just to be our hope and source of joy on Christmas when we’re on our best behaviors, in new shiny clothes, playing nice with our siblings or our in-laws because we feel like we owe it to Santa, but every day. He sent His son to be our hope and salvation ESPECIALLY on the days that we forget to shower (anyone else have those?), the days we do the same thing for the millionth time, the days we feel like we’ve gone invisible, the days that nothing seems to be going right. Because of Christmas and the birth of our Savior, we’re guaranteed the promise of salvation and the hope that comes with knowing our stories are being written by the same author who sent His son to be born in a manger so that He could love us better and so we might love others in return.

So as I head into Christmas Eve Eve (Christmas Eve squared, if you will) and look ahead to the days beyond, while I’m tangled up in the holiday sales, peppermint bark, and crying laughing at Home Alone for the KAZILLIONTH time, I’m praying that I’ll never lose sight of the fact that Christmas changes everything. This season isn’t just the presents and the tree and the sparkly attire, it’s the game changer for our entire world. Christmas is the day that changed everything—that reconciled us with our maker to give us joy and hope forever. With that in mind, what if we borrowed the sentiments of the 6-foot something Elf who thinks sugar is a major food group? What if we treated every day like Christmas?

[heyheymarya]

Nobody likes you when you’re 23.

The 25 before 25 post.

Whoa, that feels weird. On the eve of my 24th birthday and in completely uncliche and ungeneric (yes both of those are made up words) fashion, I’m sitting here wondering what this last year of this season of life will comprise before I hit a quarter of a century old. First of all, can I just say that I’m thankful?? Really thankful. That I made it this far. That I’m not as dumb as I used to be. That I don’t know nearly all the things I think I know. That I sit here and type a blog post at my big girl desk reflecting on the fact that I have really great humans in my life and really great hair. Just kidding about that last part. Kind of. Not really. Part of growing up, I think, is learning how to accept yourself for who you are while graciously acknowledging which parts of you are direct gifts from God. My hair, I think, is one of them. Anywho.

I’ve never really made a bucket list. To be honest, I couldn’t tell you if that’s out of laziness or a subconscious fear of not completing it but as I’ve grown I’ve realized the importance of setting goals and reaching them. You always hear that, but what I’ve really learned is that for obvious reasons goal-setting is important to mark your development and progress toward perhaps a much bigger ambition. But what people don’t tell you about writing things down and being able to slowly but surely mark them off your list is the ever-growing confidence boost you receive when you set your mind to do something and then actually achieve it. Amazing.

1.     Create first ever bucket list. (I’m doing so well already)

2.     Learn to manage my money. This one is HUGE for me. HUGE. A personal weakness that I know will follow me around forever. It has to start now. Lord help me.

3.     Go to a music festival. (LOLZ. YOLO or something, right?)

4.     Learn geography. Like… actually learn it. Not cram and regurgitate right before Mr. Page’s 9th grade Geography Final, but actually be able to see places and regions in my mind when people mention they’re from Illinois. Or New Jersey. Or Israel. Long story short, last week I couldn’t do that. I actually could not tell you if that shape on Facebook was Illinois, New Jersey, or Israel. I’m embarrassed to divulge that information, but you have to admit that’s funny.

5.     HAVE A FULL-TIME JOB!

6.     See California and New York. And maybe even Europe. Maybe live there… WHO KNOWS.

7.     Learn to really forgive. Truthfully, this is an ability by the grace of God I’m proud of. Somewhere in the past few years, God has shown me so much about forgiveness. One of my favorite verses on this is Romans 12:17-18. “Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” People make mistakes. Sometimes people are selfish. Sometimes people are just careless. Sometimes you are selfish and you are careless. Forgive them, forgive yourself, love unconditionally.

8.     Say no to FOMO. “I’M NOT JOSIE GROSSIE ANYMORE” is actually what I want to scream. I suffered strongly from FOMO (or fear of missing out) in college. Which is why I didn’t sleep and I was running around like a crazy person because I would get so caught up in what everyone else was doing, and I was so terrified that they were having WAY more fun than me. Thanks, social media. (If you too suffer or have suffered from FOMO, it’s a real disease and there is a cure—Get off Facebook/Instagram and LIVE YOUR LIFE YO!) No one is having as much fun as their Instagram makes you believe, and no one is enjoying themselves more than you alone on your couch with a Chickfila #10 on a Friday night. NO ONE. I’ll be taking my own advice in this coming year.

9.     Enjoy sleep more. My bones are getting weary with old age. Sleep will do me some good.

10. Stop running my mouth. Sometimes I forget that silence is golden. A lot of times I appreciate when people just listen to me, so I’ll work to be a better listener.

11. Take more pictures. My mind is already growing foggy the older I get. I want to remember these times as much as I can.

12. Be fully present. Put down the phone and step away from the Valencia filter. While another item on my list is to capture more moments, a more important item is to be where my feet are. We are all so busy engaging in social media that we forget how to be social. What a difference it would make in the next quarter of my life if I learned in the first one how to soak up every moment for all it’s worth. How to actually appreciate the gifts God has given me and not just tweet about them.

13. Love harder. Love fiercer, love stronger. Not just SAY I love my friends and my family but SHOW them. Love is an action verb, and I pray in the next year I’ll know what it looks like to put my love into actions.

14. Work harder to understand others. Isn’t that a whammy? What if we just took a little extra time to understand how others operate? Truly comprehend that we are all made with different ticks, different quirks, and learning how to speak specifically to those intricacies could be a great way to love someone better.

15. Stop caring what others think. Alright, I’m setting myself up for failure before I even begin. EVERYONE cares what others think to some extent. No matter what. But my goal is to not let it affect the way I think about myself. Yes, I hope to seek wise counsel, but even more so I hope to become so in tune with who I am and Whose I am that the opinions of others are simply suggestions, not requirements. At the end of the day, I have to do what is best for me, my faith, my future, my pursuits of happiness as He sees fit. Jesus be a fence for that one.

16. Learn to say no and not feel bad about it. This could be in line with recovering from my serious case of FOMO. Or it could be part of caring what others think. Either way: sometimes saying no is okay.

17. Care for my body. Not just for a lifestyle and fitness in swimwear competition, but to look in the mirror, see a healthy figure, and think DANG I look good. And mean it.

18. Be more transparent. With my friends, with my family, with strangers, with myself, with God.

19. Watch the entire series of Sex and the City, Dawson’s Creek, and Friends in chronological order. Don’t judge me.

20. Develop a matured and intentional prayer life. Not just the kind where I throw up some mad props to the Big Guy for a great day and my health and my friends and family and stuff amen in the 8.7 seconds between my head hitting the pillow and the first snore. But a real, regular quiet time where I seek Him in all honesty and truth. What a privilege and gift we have to communicate with our Maker that I TOTALLY rob myself of by not being intentional.

21. Greet each day with a thankful heart and a sense of whimsy. Stop expecting the worst in people or circumstances, but truly EXPECT to receive all the goodness He wants to provide.

22. Buy something really expensive and nice for myself because I can. (Once I’ve financially planned wisely for it of course.)

23. Define my personal style. Fashion is a big thing for me, and that passion is only growing. I want to learn more about the fashion industry and hone in my own personal tastes that will carry me into a big girl wardrobe. (Dream big, right?)

24. Learn a new language. Anyone got a Groupon for Rosetta Stone?

25. Share my testimony with someone who needs to hear it. Whenever or wherever that may be.

And with that, if everyone adapts this list as their own for the next year of their lives I’m pretty sure I just created the solution to world peace. YOU’RE WELCOME and let’s just make that an added #26 bonus.

My heart is full. My heart is open. Ready for new windows, different doors, unseen opportunities to be revealed in the next year. A year ago around Christmas time I asked God to show up in my life in a way that was immeasurably more than I could have ever asked or imagined and He has. For that I’m incredibly thankful. And with a thankful heart comes an even more extravagant beacon of hope that even more adventures and blessings will come my way. Bring. It. On.

[heyheymarya]

I can go the distance.

“God, what is your will for my life?” How many times have we looked up at the vast abyss that is a blue unclouded sky and asked that question? Or some form of that question. I know I have at least 2,752 times… give or take.

Somewhere along the line I started truly believing with every fiber of my being that God has a big leather bound book that smells of rich mahogany and contains millions of maps. These maps are our lives. I couldn’t tell you if they are pie charts, bar graphs, or just a big map of the world with little red marks and circles scribbled all over with arrows and numbers directing some strange course that is our lives—but I know that plan, that configuration of my life is being beautifully, carefully orchestrated by the maker of all things. This concept is comforting in times of twenty something confusion when I find myself not even at a crossroad of one huge life-changing decision, but rather in the middle of a desert where I’m far enough out to no longer see the trail I came from and not far enough to see the horizon ahead. I think it’s these times, when we’ve already left the shore and there’s no turning our boat around, that are the scariest. The hardest to find motivation to keep paddling. Or even the times we just want to throw our oars away and drift to whatever unintentional or convenient island the wind may blow us.

But the truth of the matter is, our time is limited. While it seems like we’re floating along a wide open sea with no clear cut path in sight, that doesn’t change the fact that our time of floating is brief when compared to the time that came before us and the time that will succeed us.

Psalm 90:12 says, “Teach us to number our days so that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” In the same chapter Moses talks about God being “everlasting to everlasting.” In other words, OUR LIVES ARE SO SHORT FROM HIS PERSPECTIVE. Like… a blink and it’s done. Teach us to number our days—teach us to understand our time here is limited. So that we may gain a heart of wisdom—so we would understand what’s important/how to spend that limited time. Teach us to stop complaining about not knowing where we’re going and for me as of late to quit feeling the angst of the 20 something that wishes she were doing something bigger and doing something better. Teach us that ain’t nobody got time for floating because there’s a whole lot of life You’ve given us to live. Not to float aimlessly, but to run the course we’ve been so graciously given even if we don’t know exactly where the trails may lead. Teach us to see the grace in trails ahead still covered by the darkness because Your light only reveals the path we see when You're right beside us. Teach us that even when we don’t know where we’re going to just keep paddling.

[heyheymarya]

Just dance.

“Get up, we’re going to the gym.” I told myself for the millionth time. In this post pageantland, never-going-to be-on-stage-in-a-swimsuit-again season of life, going to the gym has lost a lot of its former lust for me. (Lust that I had in my mind for the gym… not sure if the land of treadmills and abused weight racks ever yearned for me in the same way) As I drove to the gym (yes, drove… not ran or walked or something exercise-centered), I thought “I really want to say I’m a fitness enthusiast so I have to start acting like I’m enthused about fitness…” WHO SAYS THAT. Also, who actually is enthused about fitness, know what I’m saying? Also also, let’s not talk about the fact that talking to myself, aloud, in public, has become a very regular occurrence for me.

I research recipes to make “bad” food healthier. I skim Women’s Health and Shape magazines for new ways to curb my appetite, shortcut my way to a lean sexy belly, or firm up my buns in under 13 minutes this week. I subscribe to random bodybuilding, prevention, and health websites so someone else can tell me to get off my couch and step away from the candy besides the little voices in my head. But WHY?

Because I’ve learned that when you want to be something, be someone, do something big or small, you just do it. You don’t wait around for the right moment. You don’t wait for approval or the right person to notice. You just do it. Nike style. Get up off your couch and run. Pick up fresh veggies to cut up and transport hummus into your mouth instead of pretzel chips. Go the extra mile to be who you want to be baby step by baby step because the only person/action/thing/insert other noun here you can control is you.

It’s kind of like how I started a blog because I knew I had to. I knew that if I wanted to achieve a handful of goals I had hidden in my back pocket, I should just start being those glamorous versions of myself now. Any successful journalist/broadcaster/radio personality/fashionista/fitness enthusiast has a blog. So if I want to be any number of those things, blogging will surely get me there. Or at least help me out once I’m there.

So what are you trying to do? Finish school? Run a business? Become a traveling salesman? Go do it. One test, scholarship application, idea, road trip at a time. Someone once said “the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” That one was Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu. Not just the voices in my head.

“Do what you can with what you have where you are.”

[heyheymarya]

If I could turn back time.

#tbt

I would venture to say this is social media’s most popular meme. A way to look back at the past and laugh at now outdated fashion trends, haircuts, or lifestyles. For lots of us, it’s now a way to repost funny or embarrassing pictures of our friends and highlight those professional headshots we spent hundreds of dollars on… again. #sorrynotsorry

Throwback Thursday for a long time for me meant scrolling back through my Facebook pictures and scrolling quickly over a few segments in my life. A few windows of time that are better left in the past. But recently, I’ve found a joy replacing the angst. A hope instead of regret. A thankfulness where guilt once had been. I’m not proud of parts of my past. Who is? I look back at those pictures now, my heart hurting for the girl in the pictures. How lost and how broken she is without even knowing. Desperately reaching and grasping for things and lifestyles and people to fill a void that unknowing to her can only be filled with one thing. While I hurt people in the process of my wandering (it’s not like I killed anyone but friendships were rifted), I realize now the person I was hurting the most was myself. Because with every night of just doing what all my friends were doing and every time I told myself this is what college kids do, I ripped the whole in my heart even wider. Thankfully, where sin abounds grace abounds all the more and the hemorrhage in my heart that used to feel like a gaping hole, I now understand was being flooded by God’s grace.  I look at the girl that pops up on my TimeHop now and weep. Seriously. Unstoppable flood gates of tears for that girl but more so for the thankfulness that comes with seeing someone once so broken and looking back in retrospect now to how far He has brought me. I’ve said for a long time now, especially in light of the innately good people God has put in my life, that I am by far the most human person I know. I lie and cheat and boast and envy and try to make this life about something other than the One who created it. Luckily, God put those people in my life to make it all the more abundant, to show me His love and nothing else. Not to judge, not to berate, not to do anything but show His grace. I look back at that girl and want to tell her it will be okay. Actually, I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her while screaming WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? But I know that God works out all things for the good of those who love Him. And I know that, not just because the word of God tells me, but because I have fallen short enough times that He has mercifully shown me that that is in fact truth. For that reason, “I wouldn’t take nothin’ for the journey now.” And I will continue to “consider it pure joy whenever I face trials of many kinds because I know it’s the testing of my faith and that produces perseverance. And since perseverance, when finished, will make me mature and complete, not lacking anything,” I know I have a long way to go. But, by His grace, I know the One who leads the way.

[heyheymarya]

Lean on me.

If you’ve been living under a rock, earlier this week the world lost a man that many of us grew up with. He was an alien, a genie, a nanny, a teacher, a therapist, a husband, a father, and a comedian that brought so much happiness to others without that joy resonating somewhere inside himself.

  I’ve taken a couple of days to be sad. I needed it. I couldn’t not, really. Unfortunately in the day and age we live in, a celebrity being found deceased is not uncommon.  And there have been tragic deaths in our generation. But this one was like losing a childhood friend. It hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart has been heavy at the thought of a man that made my heart sing with laughter who couldn’t even hum the same tune quietly to himself. But I’ve decided at the end of the day there comes a time when the mourning ends and joy is to be pursued again. Because the sun will come up tomorrow, the world will keep turning, and life will keep going. But if it keeps going without changing after another human has succumbed to the darkness that is depression, we’ve done something terribly, terribly wrong.

  I can’t change the world. But I can change my world. And as one of Robin Williams’ most beloved movies once told us, “no matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.” And I believe that. So the first idea that needs to be the change I wish to see in the world is the conviction that depression is a real sickness and until we start treating it as such, until we stop acting like those that suffer from it are less than or crazy or should feel embarrassed or alienated or just forgotten about, we will continue to have precious friends, loved ones, mothers, fathers, and children taking their own lives because their own society condemned them to “just deal” with the hell within their own minds.

  I think a question that comes up often, among believers and non-believers alike, when depression sets in or when it ends in taking a life is: why would God let this happen? Isn’t that a common question in the middle of life’s heartaches anyways? Why would God give this burden to one person and not another? Why would God let someone suffer? I do believe that some of us were given heavier burdens than others. But I don’t think that was a way for God to single us out, play favorites, or punish someone with a heavier load. I think it was a way for those of us with lighter loads to help bear the crosses of others—to be the hands and feet of God here on earth when the darkness reminds us of the fallen world we live in. I believe “this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (John 9:3) It’s in the pitch black of night that a blank canvas can reflect light greatest. It’s in the midst of darkness that His light can shine the brightest.  

  While I can’t be sure what God’s lot for my life is, I know above all else, I was called to love. When these heartbreaking incidents happen, when we’re reminded of how dark the world we live in can be, I don’t think there’s a person in this world that, at least for one second, doesn’t stop and realize how truly fleeting this life is. “Carpe diem,” Mr. Williams says. Seize the day, make your lives extraordinary. To you that might mean skydiving, traveling the world, asking that girl out, or speeding down the freeway at 100 mph, but for me that means to seize every day as another opportunity to love. Another 24 hours to make sure those around me are touched in some way that makes them feel “wonderful, magnificent, glorious, punctual!…” or even wanted, loved, and needed.  Another day is another chance to shine God’s love, and in these cases His hope, into the aching hearts of others.

  I’ve heard one too many times that Robin Williams made a choice. He did. But just as he made a choice that changed his life forever, we each have the choice every day that could be just as life changing to someone else. “Be kind; everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” And as such, every day I get to choose how I’m going to act, how I’m going to speak to people, treat people, honor people. I get to choose if I ask the bagel customer how their day is going or simply ask for their five dollars and thirty-five cents for that bacon, egg, and cheese. I get to choose whether or not I walk into the radio station to rattle off a script and walk out or if I walk in to develop real relationships with my co-workers and even our listeners so they know I care, I think they matter, I appreciate them. I get to choose if my friends understand I'm here if all they need is someone to listen because I've been there to really hear them before. I get to choose if my family and boyfriend get the hangry monster that comes from low blood sugar, or if they receive patience and compassion at the end of a long day. 

  Jesus once said “While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Welp, Jesus is no longer physically in this world, so who’s going to shine that light now? The choice is ours. 

[heyheymarya]

Unchained melody.

Today I was reflective.

  I recently finished a book that said "a story is based on what people think is important, so when we live a story, we are telling people around us what we think is important."

  I loved that. Because I, for so long, have told people that I see my life as a story, but what does that actually mean? I’ve lived 23 years of life trying to create a great story. I’ve recited in some variation in seven different pageants and at least three different job interviews the Barbara Kingsolver quote: “To live is to be marked. To live is to change. To acquire the words of a story and that is the only celebration we mortals will ever really know.” And that my life is a story. And I want desperately for it to mean something. 

  So let’s just say that we take Donald Miller’s words to be true: that when we live a story we tell people around us what we think is important. Keeping this in mind and with procrastination at hand, I backstalked myself (#throwbackthursday!). Went back through traces of social media to discover what kind of story was told through Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter in terms of what I found to be important.

  Based on social media alone, the rest of the world may have perceived the following things to be important to me over the past three years: friends, specifically the ones I lived with, my sister’s dog, the Georgia Bulldogs, endless nights frolicking around downtown Athens, ultimately having an undeniable sense of delightfully naïve irresponsibility.

  Then it progressed to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, embracing moments with a crown on my head, lots of Bible verses, some more downtown frolicking, LOTS of food, some exercising here and there, ultimately documenting how I was working towards bettering myself physically, mentally, and emotionally to attain previously stated goals (see: Started from the bottom now we’re here...).

  While a trip down memory lane is great, this backtracking has led me to one simple conclusion: what if I’ve been doing this all wrong?

  My life is a story. One that I pray might mean something when this is all said and done. One that I have spent years grasping for things to fill the pages with sometimes humbling and sometimes (okay, most times) self-aggrandizing fulfillment through my own achievements and glory from things like Orientation Leader to Philanthropist to Miss America. Not to say that success or a feeling of self-worth isn’t noteworthy. It is. Something I believe in more than almost anything else is the notion of as we let our light shine we empower others to do the same. But I’ve always said I live my life intentionally so that every word I speak and every thing I do will all add up to a story that might make a difference. Let me repeat that: I live my life intentionally so that every word I speak and every thing I do will all add up so that MY story will make a difference. And therein lies the problem. What if while my life may be a story, I am not the main character?

  “He told me I was a tree in a story about a forest, and that it was arrogant of me to believe any differently. And he told me the story of the forest is better than the story of the tree.”   - A Million Miles in a Thousand Years

  Another great line from that book. I’ve realized I’ve been doing this all wrong. I’ve been chasing dreams and pursuits of happiness (all while carefully documenting my quest on social media, of course) with the intention of being my best self and learning what I could do within my own strength. I asked God to help me fight the self-doubt and worries, and He did. I asked Him to provide that strength and He did. I whole heartedly adapted my newly embraced mantra and truly believed when I chanted “I can do ALL things through Christ who gives me strength.” And I did. And I can. But what if the things I’m meant to do-- while they do better me and allow me to use the gifts and talents He's given me and they could create a meaningful story-- were meant to ultimately play a part in a much larger story? One that along with the less memorable chapter about a 20 something trying to find meaning through do-gooder roles like attempting to win a pageant before being redirected into landing her dream job (hey, fingers crossed) tells a chapter about a guy who had a famous cousin who he was supposed to talk about to everyone he encountered, baptize, and support until he, himself, was beheaded in jail; and a chapter about a high school football team in Odessa, Texas who came THIS close to winning the state championship then lost (stay tuned for part 2 of that chapter. Spoiler: they come back and win the next year); and even includes the chapter about a carpenter’s son sent to die on a cross to save the people He loved.

  In the end, when I get to look back on the story of my life and see that it was only a small fraction of a much larger story, I hope even the fleeting chapters within will mean something, will paint the picture of what or even more Who I found most important. And I’ve realized the only way for the words on the pages to leave an impression is to reflect the underlying meaning beneath it all. I pray instead of my life meaning something, God will have used me to give His story meaning.

  So how do I do this? I’m not sure. I think I’ll start with loving my neighbor as myself. Yes, even my neighbor who lets their dog POOP in my yard every day without cleaning it up. I will love them like Christ loved me despite me sometimes doing something similar to the beautiful plan He has for my life. Or I might start with remembering the Sabbath day to keep it Holy. Taking every Sunday off even though those bagel shifts give me mad tip money (hey, people feel generous on Sundays) so that I can have a day of rest to remember whose story I’m actually playing a role in. I might even start with limiting my social media intake (SAY WHAT) to an amount that's less than the time I spend in the Word or within the ACTUAL fellowship He so desperately longs to provide us.

  Or maybe I’ll just start with a familiar, borrowed prayer: Lord, help me understand what it means to be a tree in a story about a forest. Because I know the story about the forest is better than the story about the tree.

  Please turn the page…

[heyheymarya]

Started from the bottom now we're here.

Actually, I started from the bottom and I’m kind of still at the bottom. At least technically speaking. You might even say, I came, I saw, I lost. I walked away without a crown on my head to continue life as I knew it. But that is so far from the truth.

Last year after the final curtain closed, I hung my head and went home. I didn’t win. I didn’t even make the top 10. I was walking away ungrateful for a swimsuit preliminary award and a Non-Finalist Interview award and I was NOT coming back. Even though I knew my dedication to preparing that year didn’t really start until after I graduated from UGA (a month and a half from Miss Georgia week), I was disappointed in myself for not putting in the work and expecting more than I deserved. I was ready to move on with my life. Until I watched the Miss America pageant a couple months later and remembered my original love for the organization, knew the change it could make in the lives of young women across the nation, and watched a friend do something I KNEW I could do too if I worked as hard as she had to get there. With that proceeded 9 months of things falling so beautifully into place for my third and final trip to Miss Georgia. A week after Miss America, I entered the next local preliminary competition that was offered, Apple Capital, winning not just a crown and a ticket to Miss Georgia but also an INCREDIBLE group of women that have poured themselves so willingly, so lovingly into my entire being. I decided this was the year I was doing it right. My swimsuit prep, talent prep, wardrobe, everything started before that local crown was even on my head in September, and I worked tirelessly to make it happen. I woke up at 5:30 AM almost every morning to go to one job, then the gym, then the radio station, then sometimes the gym again, then home and bed-- give or take a tour of campus or trip to the courthouse to do background checks (my other two of four jobs). I drove from Athens to Atlanta almost every week for voice lessons/pageant prep. I worked hard to balance healthy eating with indulgences, dedication to my mind and body with taking time to relax, spending my time making money or spending time making memories with friends in this unique post-grad season of my life. It was hard. But I made it work. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” I would tell EVERYONE who questioned why I was doing what I did. I believed in what I was doing. I believed in the Miss America organization and its ability to change lives by giving women the outlet to grow into their absolute best selves: mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually. And that’s what I was doing: pursuing a seemingly impossible goal to be the best I’d ever been physically, stretching my mind beyond its comfort zone as I learned about the world around me and formed genuine opinions and thoughts on current events and how to be the change I wished to see in the world, promoting a platform that is RELEVANT by telling the story of a friend killed in a car crash our senior year of high school and encouraging others to learn from her mistake by never texting and driving.

I woke up every day with a drive that started as “What can I do today to become Miss Georgia in June?” But that drive evolved into waking up and asking myself something Howard Thurman once instructed all of us to ask ourselves: “Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” Every morning for months now I have asked myself “what can I do today that will make me come alive?” Because what this world needs and what the Miss America organization needs are women who have come alive. Who have awakened to the realization of who they’re meant to be and for me that meant being a woman with a servant’s heart who through my journey to become Miss Georgia has become the best version of myself and as I let my light shine I can empower everyone around me to do the same. When you have an organization that takes girls and helps mold them into women that all believe so strongly in themselves and all their accomplishments as they slowly but surely use their passions and gifts to change the world around them… That’s a game changer. These women are our future leaders, future mothers, all learning from the start of their adult lives how to be the change they wish to see in the world. THAT is a game changer whether you believe in the whole pageantry thing or not. 

Almost a year of growing into the best version of myself, taking time to learn what makes me tick, furthering my spiritual walk and feeling small pieces of affirmation when the road got rocky that I was on the right track, working like Cinderella scrubbing the insides of cream cheese coolers to have a beautiful gown (and interview suit and swimsuit and talent gown), I showed up in Columbus a week ago READY. I remember telling one of the ladies I’ve so fortunately grown close with through pageant land that I was just thankful to be there and confident in the week ahead knowing I was coming to bring my best. I was ready for the week, I was ready for each night of competition, I was ready for this JOB. All week I practiced being the Miss Georgia I knew I could be. A woman who asked the other contestants with genuine interest where they were in school, what they wanted to do when they grew up, what got them started in pageants. A woman who made friends with the hostesses because I was SO incredibly grateful that grown women would even consider taking the time out of their lives to be the hands and feet of this organization and serve us contestants. A woman who carried myself with grace, even if I wasn’t the most bubbly contestant all week, even if I was tired, I wanted to treat everyone around me how I wanted to be treated. I wanted to be proud of myself come June 21st because, crown on my head or not, if I treated everyone around me with disrespect that week, it would all be for nothing.

Like I predicted, Jesus didn’t make a comeback before June 21st and finals night arrived. I was at peace knowing I did my best, executing everything I had practiced for months. I was excited. I was hopeful. I was ready. But my name was not called for that top 10. Again. Proof that even when you work your hardest for something, it does NOT mean you are ENTITLED to gain that reward. And I’m thankful for knowing that. I’m thankful for the peace I felt even in those moments of realizing all of that hard work did not “pay off” with shiny plates and trophies. To be honest, I knew I didn’t connect with the judges so when my name wasn’t called out for a non-finalist interview award I felt better knowing that it wasn’t anything I did that week… they just didn’t connect with me. That’s okay. But when my name was called at the end for the overall interview award, I’m not going to lie. I was confused. I still kind of am. But the what ifs, should have beens, and the "well if interview counts for this much and swimsuit counts this much and we know your talent should have been at least this much" calculation of reliving the tale isn’t going to change the outcome. And I’m thankful for that. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this season of life it’s that all good things come from the Lord and if He hasn’t placed something in my life, even if I’ve used the gifts and talents He’s given me to work my hardest in attaining that goal, it’s for a reason and I don’t want it.

While it may not seem fair for me, other contestants, or anyone even outside of pageant land who work their hardest to attain a dream that doesn’t come true, one of the bottom lines sometimes is the fact that life ISN’T fair. And it wasn’t made to be. As Christians we are called to handle that unfairness with grace, dignity, and love because we KNOW that this world is not supposed to be fair. We know our true reward awaits us in riches only He can provide outside of this world. That’s why it’s important to seek our fulfillment not in earthly gains but in the invaluable benefits of leveraging our God-given gifts and talents for all they’re worth to further the good of others. It’s not what you have or what you gain but what you do with what you’ve been given that matters to Him. Yes, the Miss America Organization has provided me an outstanding outlet to do just that, leverage my talents and gifts for the good of others, but truly thank God that it doesn’t stop there because that crown was not placed on my head Saturday night and I still get to leverage the blessings that He has bestowed upon me to enrich the lives of others. For that, I am thankful.

 While it didn’t end the way I had hoped, I have an unending feeling of thankfulness for the past three years God has granted me as part of the Miss America organization. Each year was different. Each year was a blessing. But it’s no secret to me now that I can look back in even the slightest of retrospect being thankful for the fact that it is JUST a pageant. Nothing more. The outcome throughout these pageants does NOT determine your worth and unless you can go into the process completely unattached to the outcome, you will get scathed by the crossfire of being so emotionally invested in something that YOU CANNOT CONTROL. EVEN if you do your best, EVEN if you work your hardest, it may not lead to a prize. I’m thankful to have learned that and by the grace of God come to peace with that. Because truth be told had it not been for God allowing me to be part of this organization, I would not have met some of my best friends, some of my greatest mentors, some of my strongest sources of encouragement, or encountered some of the most growing experiences. During the week I was able to talk with one of the newer contestants about this whole experience and she told me it was funny to her that so many of us bring God into the picture of pageant land. She was puzzled by us asking for God to shine His light through us onto these people and really confused why we thought God would care about the outcome of a silly pageant when there are people dying of disease and war around the world. And I love that she thought that. I love that she brought that up. Because it reminded me how God can take even the SILLIEST and seemingly most insignificant things in this world and work it for the good of those who love Him. How He can take something so small in the big scheme of things and use it to teach us the virtue of perseverance, to show us how to work toward something as if working for HIM and not earthly masters, to grow us into someone more like Him… which I think is the whole point.

Probably the biggest lesson I’ve learned through this entire process is the importance of striving to live life with two hands open ready to receive and ready to be taken from as He sees fit. True joy and true happiness can only be found in living life with two hands wide open, never clenching tightly onto things for which there are seasons because seasons come to an end. And never grasping for things out of our reach because He works everything out for the good of those who love Him IN HIS OWN TIME. Whatever is happening in your life now is happening for a reason: He is shaping you, molding you, changing your heart in a way that will prepare you for whatever He has next to place graciously into your hands. So while I worked so hard for something I thought He was preparing me for, I can rest assured and praise Him for preparing me instead for something immeasurably more than what I asked or imagined. And that feeling of waiting hopefully, expectantly, faithfully for something immeasurably more than something you already waited hopefully, expectantly, and faithfully for is more exciting and rewarding than any crown could have been. I’m thankful to know that and even more thankful He knew that all along.  

    "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." - Romans 8:28